


Intermission: Rule One

by Selenay



Series: Damage Limitation [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Like I just got fucked six ways from Sunday by someone who makes really awful sex jokes," Clint said, opening his eyes. "I'm probably going to need a day or two before we try that again. Three at most."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermission: Rule One

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I'm wrestling with complicated fics with plots and multiple Coulsons and getting horridly stressed about it: I take breaks to write plotless fluff.
> 
> Fits into the time-line of this series just after the first story, so during the second story and yes, I'm not writing this series linearly at all it appears.
> 
> Apologies for the lack of laugh out loud funny. I'm hoping this ended up gently humorous rather than too far into total shmoop. The next fic in this series will definitely be hitting the crack harder.

The beds in SHIELD quarters were far too narrow, Phil decided for possibly the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours. Not that they were ever built with the intention that agents would try to share them, but there were reasons that Phil slept on the couch in his office when he had to spend the night and it wasn't just convenience.

He propped the writing pad against his knee again and scribbled another note.

Clint was still dead to the world and had been asleep for over ten hours now. He deserved the sleep, he had to be exhausted, but if he didn't wake up soon Phil would have to call medical in case this was an unanticipated side-effect of whatever was in the device that he refused to call a sex grenade. Clint's hair stood out in every direction, there was a visible hickey on his neck and even in his sleep there was a smug grin on his face.

Maybe medical could wait another hour or two.

Phil tried to shift into a more comfortable position but Clint's grip on his arm suddenly tightened.

"What time is it?" Clint asked blearily, his eyes still closed.

"Two-ish," Phil said.

"Morning?"

"Afternoon."

"Fuck."

"Well, that probably contributed, yes," Phil said.

Clint groaned. "That was terrible."

"I know." Phil hesitated. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got fucked six ways from Sunday by someone who makes really awful sex jokes," Clint said, opening his eyes. "I'm probably going to need a day or two before we try that again. Three at most."

"You want to try this again?" Phil asked, feeling tension he had not been aware of fade away.

"If you do," Clint said with an oddly shy look in his eyes, entirely out of character with his usual confidence. "But next time, let's forget the sex grenade foreplay, OK? I've never needed a sex grenade to want to have sex with you."

Phil smiled and rolled slightly to kiss him, slow and careful. Clint's mouth opened under his immediately, licking in to taste and deepen the kiss. Feeling Clint so eager, so open when they kissed was never going to get old. It was all going very well until they shifted slightly and Clint moaned in a way that was definitely not pleasure. Phil now had a fairly extensive inventory of the noises that Clint made when he was enjoying himself and that was not one of them.

"I think that I pulled something," Clint said when Phil pulled away. "Maybe several somethings."

"I'm taking you to medical," Phil said.

"I'm fine," Clint said automatically.

"I'll let them be the judge of that," Phil said. "They can check that your system is back to normal as well."

"Pretty sure my current urges to jump you have nothing to do with sex grenades," Clint said with a leer.

"I'd still like to be certain," Phil said firmly. "Medical. Then, if they give you the all clear, I'll take you home. I'm sure you'd prefer to recover in your own bed."

"I'd prefer your bed," Clint said. "It's bigger and looks much more comfortable."

Phil took a deep breath, blocking out visions of Clint in his bed naked and ready, and said, "How would you know what my bed looks like?"

"Your suite is only one floor below mine," Clint said. "I was doing recon."

"You were mapping all the air vents in the tower, weren't you?" Phil asked.

"You'll thank me the first time the tower gets invaded and we have to go on a two-man rescue mission to rescue everyone and destroy the bad guys," Clint said cheerfully. "Bruce Willis can kiss my ass."

"Medical," Phil said, suiting his words to actions and escaping from the bed.

He put the notebook and pen on the nearby desk and gathered up his suit, frowning at the wrinkles from a night on the floor before starting to dress.

"It's going to cost you," Clint said, sitting up and groaning as abused muscles pulled. "One back-rub when we get home. That's my price for going to medical."

"Done," Phil said, "and before you try anything, back rubs won’t be leading to anything else until you can move without making faces."

"I'd argue that if I didn't feel like I'm ninety," Clint said.

He stood, wincing again, and Phil hid a smile because a naked Clint really was a beautiful sight even if he was moving like an old man right now.

"Hey, what were you writing?" Clint asked curiously.

Phil reached into an overhead bin, hunting down the sweats that usually kept there for working out in.

"Are these...rules?" Clint asked. "Are there rules about dating you?"

Phil threw the clothes at Clint.

"Technically I'm still your handler," he said. "I thought it might be a good idea to establish some guide-lines up front so that we keep our professional lives and our personal lives separate."

Clint stared at him. "Seriously? After flirting for all these years, now you're thinking about professional boundaries?"

"I wasn't flirt-"

"And isn't rule one a bit like bolting the stable door with the horse three counties away?" Clint added.

He gestured around the tiny room, which still smelled like sex and had a SHIELD logo displayed prominently above the door.

Phil took the notepad from Clint's hand, pulled off the top sheet of paper and tucked it into a pocket.

"That was a special circumstance," he said. "From now on, rule one applies."

Clint began pulling on the sweats, grimacing every now and again. He picked up the hospital gown and balled it up, apparently happier to wander the hallways of SHIELD shirtless than put it on. He was probably concerned that medical would try to keep him if he arrived in it, Phil suspected.

"Phil," Clint said, moving closer and wrapping a hand around Phil's tie. "You should have learned something about me by now."

"What?" Phil asked suspiciously.

"Telling me not to do something only makes me want to do it," Clint said, tugging on the tie. "Rule one will fall. I guarantee it."

He used the tie to pull Phil into a quick, hard kiss and then stepped around him to the door.

"Let's get to medical," Clint said. "The sooner we get this over, the sooner you can make good on that back rub. Sir."

Phil suppressed a sigh and followed, promising himself that he would never let Clint know what a turn-on it was when he said "sir" in that particular tone of voice. Maybe he should add a rule about it.


End file.
